


Many things must be left unsaid...

by orphan_account



Category: Call the Midwife
Genre: F/F, Fluff, Gardens & Gardening, Secret Crush
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-22
Updated: 2020-06-22
Packaged: 2021-03-04 02:34:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,090
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24866125
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: So are we ever going to find out what Valerie's big secret is? Until we do, I'm taking the liberty of giving her a crush on Sister Julienne. Title is taken from Rumi's poem "Springtime".
Relationships: Sister Julienne/Valerie Dyer
Kudos: 16





	Many things must be left unsaid...

Valerie watched Sister Julienne work for a few moments, seeing her hands carefully placing each flower in its place, almost caressing the petals. And she saw too the nun’s strong forearms, how the long fingers gripped the trowel firmly. She had fallen in love with those hands not long after arriving at Nonnatus. So gentle but strong, they were tanned from the summer months and the fingers were long and shapely. The nails trimmed right back were never painted and the skin was rough and dry from years of work. Yet they were so, so beautiful to Valerie. She had seen those hands soothe pain away and pull life into the world and paint long watercolour strokes and hold the entirety of Nonnatus house together in a tender, protective grasp. Sister Julienne became aware she was being watched and looked up catching Valerie off-guard. She worried for a moment that Sister Julienne had known she was there all along and had felt her staring but she had little time to think about it before the Sister had stood and beckoned her over.

“Nurse Dyer, you are home earlier than expected.”

“A very quick labour for Mrs Simmons, Sister, all done and dusted within a few hours. A little boy.”

“It is her fourth child so a quick delivery is not unusual. No complications I trust?” “

All was well when I left.”

Sister Julienne smiled at her “You are quickly becoming a very competent midwife, Nurse Dyer.”

“Thank you, Sister.” Valerie grinned and tried not to look too pleased.

Sister Julienne wiped her hands on her apron and reached for a jug of barley water on the bench nearby. There were two glasses and she poured them one each before sitting and gesturing for Valerie to join her. The drink was ice cold and the glass had little beads of moisture on it which made Valerie want to lick them off like she used to do as a child but she restrained herself. They drank in companionable silence soaking in the sun, the only sounds the birds chirping in the cherry tree in the far corner and the occasional distant foghorn carried on the breeze from the dockside. At length Sister Julienne spoke again,

“I wish I could paint moments like this. I wish there was a way to capture them forever.”

Valerie was a little taken aback at the uncharacteristic personal nature of the conversation but recovered enough of her wits to reply, “You could paint the garden.”

Sister Julienne gestured a little, the glass in her hand catching the sun as she did so “I can’t paint the sound of the birds or the way the breeze feels or how the sun makes those daffodils look like they’re glowing.”

Valerie did not know what to say so stayed silent, unsure what was expected of her. Sister Julienne shook herself out of her reverie and put her glass down,

“Come, help me finish and we’ll be done before tea.”

With that she knelt at the flower beds again and picked up the trowel, not waiting to see if Valerie joined her. Valerie knelt next to her, hesitatingly picked up a bulb then shoved it into the nearest hole. Sister Julienne saw and laughed a little, her eyes crinkling at the edges in the way that made Valerie’s stomach jump. The sound of her laughter always surprised Valerie a little, she was usually so calm and collected that when the rich, warm sound bubbled out of her it made it all the more joyful to hear. Valerie had come to love her laugh and her open, honest face, her blue eyes that conveyed such emotion and wisdom, her voice that need never be raised to be heard and sent shivers down Valerie’s spine.

“You’ve not done much gardening have you?”

“Not in a long while Sister.”

“Here.”

Sister Julienne placed the trowel in her hand and wrapped her fingers round Valerie’s own. She guided her hand and together they dug a little hollow, the glint of the steel spade disappearing into the dark earth only to flash again as they turned the soil. Sister Julienne then reached for the bulb she had unceremoniously placed earlier and put it in Valerie’s palm. Still with the Sister’s hand guiding her, she lowered it in gently and then patted the soil round it. The feel of the cool earth beneath her fingers and the warmth of Sister Julienne’s on top made for a glorious mix of sensations. The nun had leant closer to her and Valerie could smell the crisp, clean fragrance that was no perfume or soap, just the woman’s own scent. It mingled with the fragrant damp earth and the starch from her wimple, making Valerie’s head spin. A fold in the sleeve of her habit was brushing Valerie’s arm and the soft, worn cotton, warm from the sun made her skin quiver.

“One must take care of them if they are to flourish.”

It was said in the low, gentle tone that made Valerie melt whenever the Sister used it and now, with her so close that she could feel her breath tickle her cheek and that single fold of fabric against her arm wreaking havoc on her senses it made Valerie’s heart thud so loudly that she was sure the older woman would hear it. Valerie turned to face her and pushed her fringe out of her eyes self-consciously. She must have smeared her face with dirt because Sister Julienne smiled a little then reached for her handkerchief. She wiped at the smudge and pocketed her handkerchief before herself brushing Valerie’s fringe back with her clean hand. Valerie was not sure how the hand moved from her hair to cup her cheek but she knew that Sister Julienne had surprised herself as well. She left her hand there for a moment, caressing her with her thumb, a serious, sad look in her eyes and then withdrew it hastily. She stood and grabbed the jug and glasses.

“I must get back to my office, I trust I can leave the flowers in your capable hands Nurse Dyer.”

Then she turned and walked back inside far too quickly. Valerie let out a long, shaky breath and shut her eyes against the glare of the sun before turning back to the beds. She left the bulbs neglected however and instead angrily hacked at some weeds with the trowel until she could no longer feel the imprint of Sister Julienne’s hands on her own.


End file.
